


It Shouldn't Have Been You (But I'm Glad it Was)

by NikiFrost



Series: The Queen, The Princess, and the Wardrobe [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Comfort, Daughter!Emma, Family, Gen, Healing, Mom!Regina, Parent-Child Relationship, Stable Queen, Swan Queen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 10:00:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6901360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikiFrost/pseuds/NikiFrost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SwanQueen AU: The Evil Queen's curse has been enacted, Snow White has given birth a week too early, and the magical wardrobe only takes two. Regina steals the newborn Emma from Charming's arms and gloats over her victory - up until she and the infant unexpectedly fall into the wardrobe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! To clarify, this is a familial SQ fic, meaning Regina and Emma will be family (parent-child) only. No romance, just the love between a mother and her child. I know I usually do romantic SQ, but this seemed a fun re-imagining of the pilot episode opening. There's a bonus epilogue #2 for StableQueen fans as well. Hope you enjoy. :)

NikiFrost.DeviantArt.com | Niki-Frost.Tumblr.com

* * *

 

“Where are we going?”

Snow White’s voice cracks with pain and fear, her green eyes wide with fresh tears as she clutches David to her chest. His breaths are shallow and his eyelids flutter, but he still lives, his hands resting over the bloody sword wound on his side. For a shepherd he is resilient, even if he’s only a pale replacement for the original prince James.

“Somewhere horrible,” Regina replies gleefully, smiling down at the Charmings with too much teeth, her red lips a crimson slash across her face. The crackling purple smoke of her Dark Curse has filled the room at this point, swirling around them as if they were in the middle of a tornado, wind whipping at Regina’s hair and cape. She cradles the newborn princess in her arms, the tiny infant swaddled in a knitted blanket, wriggling and whimpering as if she can sense her parents’ inevitable demise. Regina laughs darkly, stroking a finger along the infant’s cheek, knowing full well that Snow White watches her in anguish. As the curse swirls fiercely and the smoke closes in around them, she looks up to meet the younger brunette’s eyes one last time.

“Where the only happy ending... will be _mine.”_

The Curse overtakes them, magic and smoke and glittering shards of broken glass obscuring Snow and her husband from her vision. Regina playfully bounces the infant in her arms, staring down into green eyes that look far too much like Snow White’s. The distraction is enough for her to lose her footing in the whipping winds, a powerful gust pushing her backwards. Regina grits her teeth and stumbles backwards, falling into the empty wardrobe that she’d noticed in the nursery just a moment ago, and suddenly all is dark.

 

She’s woken by a loud wailing, worse so because the sound is right next to her ear. Regina winces and jerks away, realizing she still has Snow White’s infant clutched to her chest. The baby cries unhappily - it’s hungry, Regina guesses, though that’s hardly her problem. She lifts her head and frowns, finding herself curled up in what seems to be a tree trunk. Clambering out while keeping hold of the baby is awkward but she manages well enough, shaking loose bits of bark and moss from her black cloak and then glaring around her surroundings.

This is not the world she’d built into the curse. She’s supposed to have a kingdom of her own to rule over - this is nothing but miles upon miles of trees. Even the trees themselves are unfamiliar, the look and smell of them different from the ones in the Enchanted Forest.

“Rumplestiltskin,” she snaps out, because blaming the imp for everything is easiest. Besides, this was his damned curse that she’d enacted. How did she end up in the middle of nowhere?

The princess’s wails bring her attention back to the issue at hand. She has no idea where she is, no resources, and no guards at her disposal. This is going to be problematic indeed. With a sigh, Regina waves her hand and changes her clothing into something less flashy and more practical for wandering through the forest.

Well, she tries. Except nothing happens, and when she reaches for her inner magic she realizes she can’t even feel it anymore. It’s gone. Go figure her own inner magic is completely inaccessible in a world without magic.

“Damn it!” she snarls aloud, actually stomping her foot in a fit of anger. This only makes the baby cry harder, and she has half a mind to toss the infant across the clearing like a skipping stone before reminding herself that she needs to keep it alive. What better way to torment Snow White than to corrupt her child? The product of True Love, nothing more than a willing pawn to the Evil Queen. How fitting.

Only now does she actually examine the infant in her arms, still snugly wrapped in a white knitted blanket with “Emma” embroidered on the corner in purple threading. Wisps of dark blonde hair adorn the child’s head and her features are round and cherubic, with big green eyes and cheeks that dimple when she stretches her lips. She knew the Charmings were expecting a princess, but only now does she truly see the child as a baby girl and not simply an “it.”

“Oh, hush, you’re not in danger,” Regina says, frowning down at the angry little face that squawks at her. A tiny fist escapes the blanket and flails in the air. “Stop that this instant.”

Regina grabs the fist to halt her flailing - not unkindly - and manages to tuck the stubby limb back under the blankets. With a huff of annoyance, the Evil Queen begins walking.

The child does not cease her crying, however, and the noise grates on Regina’s nerves with every passing second. Bouncing her does nothing to soothe her, and Regina has nothing to nurse her with, either. Multiple times she has to resist the urge to simply abandon the wailing child in the forest somewhere, but another part of her refuses to do such an inhumane thing.

Besides, the baby is part of her nefarious plan. That’s all.

Half an hour later and Regina finally stops, sighing loudly at the wriggling, crying infant.

“Stop crying,” she demands. The baby squalls. “Stop it at once.”

No use. Now both fists wriggle free from the blankets and flail harmlessly in the air, bumping against Regina’s collarbone like tiny, ineffective punches.

 _“Stop,”_ the Queen stresses in frustration, aimlessly bouncing the infant in her arms and wishing she had a damned sleeping curse right about now. “Stop crying. Right now. _Emma.”_

The cries cease quite suddenly and big green eyes are blinking owlishly at her. At least Regina thinks so, but she thought infants weren’t able to make eye contact so early after being born. Regardless, she’s staring into giant orbs of seafoam green, with the softest gleam of blue when the baby tilts her head just so. It no longer reminds her so much of Snow White - perhaps the shade is more of a mixture of Snow’s green and Prince Charming’s baby blues. Absently, she thinks it’s the most lovely eye color she’s ever seen.

“Well,” Regina says after a moment, startled that the baby is simply blinking at her now. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Now if you cooperate, I might be able to figure out where we are and get us out of this damned forest.”

Emma cooes at her, face scrunching together with a big smile, and does nothing more than gurgle and croon for the rest of the trek.

 

As much as she may claim to be entirely refined, the Evil Queen is like a spooked cat in a room full of rocking chairs when she and Emma are taken to a hospital. Everything is strange and foreign and she hates not knowing things. After an hour or two of walking, Regina had come across what looked to be a stone-paved road that cut through the forest. Without a better lead, she simply followed it in one direction until they came upon a small cluster of ugly little buildings. One such building opened up in front and seemed to sell food, and after a very awkward confrontation in which the woman working there looked at Regina like she was crazy, they were picked up by what she assumed was law enforcement. They, in turn, took them to some sort of medical building, if the scent of chemicals and illness were any indication.

This is a different world entirely and Regina isn’t stupid, so as soon as they’d been left alone for a moment in a small room, she set the child down in a chair and tried to alter her own appearance as best she could. She pulled her hair down out of its elaborate updo so that it fell plain and unmenacing down her back, washed her face clean of heavy makeup (it took an embarrassingly long moment for her to figure out the strange contraptions in the powder room,) then wrapped her cloak more fully around herself to hide her clothing underneath. It was as close as she could get to looking like all the other women she’d seen on her way here, so it would have to do. She picked Emma back up too, before she could roll herself off the chair to an untimely demise.

A woman in a white coat eventually enters the room, much to Regina’s impatience. A thin board is in her hands and she flips through some flat parchment, a curious look on her face.

“Miss… Regina Mills?”

“Yes,” Regina says stiffly, hating that the law enforcement people had put her through so many questions on their way here. She’d bullshitted her way through most of it with some vague understanding that in this world, she needed some sort of personal identification paper, a “cellphone,” and their form of money. All of which was going to be interesting to get her hands on without the help of magic or resources. “Is there a reason I’m being kept here?”

“It’s just that in cases like these involving children--”

“Cases?”

“Well, you were found wandering the outskirts of town with no ID or, well, anything--”

“My personal items were stolen.”

“Did you speak to the police about that?”

“Yes. They're dealing with it.”

“Okay. But why were you all the way out there with a young infant?”

“We got lost.”

“Lost?” The woman looks skeptical.

“That's what I said, dear.”

“Right. And this child is…”

“My daughter,” Regina says smoothly. She recognizes the look of mistrust and knows they'll take Emma from her if given a reason. The woman’s eyebrows rise.

“She doesn't look like your daughter.”

“Are you judging us based on the colour of our skin?”

“Wh-- no! Not at all. That wasn't what I--”

“That is exactly what you said, and I don't appreciate you making ugly assumptions about my daughter and I.”

“I am sorry, Miss Mills, just--”

Emma starts crying at that exact moment. Regina shoots a glare at the woman before gently rocking the infant, softening her gaze as much as possible when she looks down upon green eyes. She doesn't know what a good and loving mother may act like, but it’s safe to say it’s the opposite of whatever her own mother was.

“Shh, shh, don't cry, darling.” She sneers up at the woman. “Now look what you’ve done. You’ve upset her.”

“I’m so sorry. Um, would you like me to bring some formula for her?”

“Yes.”

The woman retreats and returns a few minutes later with a bottle for Emma. Settling down in a chair, Regina feeds the child with as much confidence as she can, considering she has no idea what she's doing. Emma suckles greedily and seems pleased, however, so she figures she’s doing it right. She's nearly done with the bottle, big green eyes at half mast, fingers gently gripping Regina’s where she holds the bottle steady. This time Regina is sure the child is staring at her, and she can’t help but stare back, swallowing down the oddest feeling of content. Emma is relaxed and warm in her arms.

“She's very beautiful,” the woman offers after a moment, reminding Regina that she's still there.

“Thank you, dear,” is the brunette’s distracted reply.

“What's her name?”

“Emma.” Regina lifts her head and briskly returns the bottle. “On that note, we need to return home. I will have my… _ID_ replaced soon, so don't worry yourself about that.”

She rises with Emma cradled in one arm, the other giving a dismissive wave. The woman startles.

“But how will you get home without a phone or any money?”

“I’ll walk.”

“How far away do you live?”

“Not far.”

“Wait, here.” The woman pulls some sort of flat pouch from her pocket and slides a green slip of paper from it, handing it over. “Here, money for a taxi. I can't in good conscience let you walk home.”

Money, good. She doesn't know what a taxi is - sounds like some form of transportation? - but she'll jump that hurdle when she gets to it.

 

Two months. She's been in Boston for two months and is no closer to finding out where her kingdom is, nevertheless if they're even in the same world. They'd damn well better be, because she refuses to have worked this hard and sacrificed so much for it all to amount to nothing.

It had been apparent after they left the hospital that they couldn't afford to stay in the bustling city. That, and the crowdedness made Regina uncomfortable. She ended up finding a taxi simply because a man leaning up against an ugly yellow metal thing asked her if she needed a ride somewhere. He seemed thoroughly amused by her “costume” but proved rather helpful when she inquired about somewhere she could work for meals and lodging. Shelter and money were their priority if she wanted to be able to start searching for her kingdom, and in a world where she was clearly a nobody, Regina could swallow her pride. He'd invited her into the taxi - that had been an interesting first ride - and took her to a ranch and equestrian stable just on the outskirts of the city when she mentioned she had no ID and no real job experience other than being a monarch and working with horses. (One required actually _existing_ on paper so the choice was obvious. That, and he’d thought she was joking about the monarch bit.)

He ended up driving them for free and bid her a cheery goodbye once the owners of the ranch and stables agreed to hire her. It wasn't a hard decision either; they were an elderly couple, Walter and Pearl Swan, and needed more able-bodied folk working the ranch, not to mention another trainer for the horses. That, and Pearl just about fell in love with Emma upon first sight. Walter was happy so long as Pearl was happy.

Regina and Emma were set up in the guest house, a tiny building just off to the side of the main house. It was more than enough room for them, and Regina was surprisingly happier with a cozy space compared to the massive empty palace she'd spent so many years isolated in. Pearl didn't ask many questions and instead willingly helped her acquire the things she’d need for Emma, offering to babysit while Regina worked. It was a generous deal and Regina adapted to her new job well enough. Biding her time was something she excelled at, and as Walter insisted on paying her alongside the free shelter and everything else, it was a smart and stable situation to stay in for a while.

“Regina! Come take a break!”

Pearl waves enthusiastically at her from the porch, surprisingly spry for her age. In hand-me-down jeans, a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and some worn but comfortable boots, Regina dumps the last armful of hay down and jogs across the paddocks towards the house. The two young men who currently work the lands of the ranch grin and wave as she passes them along the path, but as always, she ignores them.

“Pearl,” she greets with a small smile upon hopping up onto the porch. That last time she’d tried to call either of them Mr. or Mrs. Swan, she’d gotten smacked for it. She genuinely likes Pearl and Walter; they're kind to her without being an annoyance, unapologetically transparent in nature, and in some ways they remind her of Daniel. Warm, compassionate, loyal to a fault.

Pearl reaches out and yanks the glove off of Regina's right hand, pressing a glass of cold iced tea into it. “Come over here, Emma’s been babblin’!”

“Doesn't she always?” Regina shakes her other glove off and swipes the sweat from her brow, following Pearl through the front door (it’s been permanently propped open since the summer heatwave hit them) and sipping her iced tea. Emma’s sprawled out on her belly in an old crib by the living room’s bay window.

“Oh, she makes sounds, but this here is real baby babblin’.” Pearl looks immensely proud as she scoops Emma up into her arms. “Come on baby girl, make some noise for your mama, huh?”

Regina shifts uncomfortably. She's grown to be rather fond of Pearl in particular, and this just reminds her of how many lies she’s living on. She’s learned to handle Emma well enough that no one, not even the handful of employees who work on the ranch, question her relationship to the child. Her maternal instincts, however, don't seem to exist. Pearl’s had many children of her own - all flown the nest and off with their own families now - and gladly swoops in to help whenever Regina can't get Emma to stop crying.

“I’m afraid I don't know how to be a very good mother,” she’d once told the elder woman, an excuse for her lack of affection with Emma. Pearl had just chuckled at her.

“Every mother n’ child bonds differently. You’ll get there with Emma so long as you keep tryin’ your best,” Pearl had told her, a twinkle in her eyes.

“Here, you hold her,” Pearl says now, trading Regina the baby for her drink. The brunette cradles Emma with a small sigh, offering up a smile as those big green eyes lock onto her.

“Mmmnnnahh,” Emma sounds out, and Regina pretends to be excited over the nonsensical gibberish.

“Good girl,” she says, rocking her gently. Tiny hands pat at her shoulders, searching. Regina pulls her long hair loose from a hair tie and drapes it over her shoulder where Emma can touch it and tug on it. The child seems to love playing with her hair, and since it keeps her from crying, Regina willingly suffers it.

“I’ll have dinner ready in an hour if ya wanna finish early today and catch a hot shower,” says Pearl, one hand on her hip and looking pleased. Regina blinks in surprise. She hadn't expected any generosity or kindness when she first showed up here but Pearl and Walter have been nothing but, constantly surprising her with their thoughtful and oftentimes selfless acts. She certainly works hard for her keep, but they treat her almost like family.

Probably just because of Emma, she thinks. No one can resist the cute little princess after all.

“Thank you,” Regina breathes out, happy for the respite. Pearl holds out her arms to take Emma off her hands and shoos her off for her shower.

 

Six months since they arrived. Regina’s somewhat disgruntled at how easy it is to get lost in work, for the hours to meld into days and weeks as she tends to the horses and runs them through their courses and feels like she’s flying astride their backs. Walter tips her off about the trails in the woods nearby and on the occasion that she has free time to spare, she hops onto her favourite stallion of the bunch and rockets off into the wilderness as if she were chasing after her father’s hunting parties again, in both her youth and his. Mother had always punished her severely whenever she found out, but it had always been worth it.

She has to remind herself to return to her search every so often. She’s become quite familiar with the internet after Pearl allowed her use of their old computer in the main house. They’d asked, once. She said something vague about finding the only family member she had left. They didn’t ask again. Pearl would just pat her shoulder whenever she walked by and saw Regina searching, searching, searching.

She never found anything.

Regina drags the comb through Rocinante’s mahogany coat again, gently swatting him away when he tries to playfully chew on the hem of her shirt. His name is really Rochester, but she calls him Rocinante and he responds to it as if it had been his name since he’d been a foal.

“You would have liked the Enchanted Forest,” she tells him absently, pulling her fingers through a small tangle in his mane. He just huffs through his nostrils and shoves his face back into his bucket of oats.

“Regina! Regina! Come quick!” It’s amazing how easily Pearl’s voice carries across the fields. Regina sets the brush down and hurries out of the stables, turning towards the main house to see Pearl’s matronly silhouette on the porch. It’s late evening, well after dinner, and Emma should be sleeping right now. Furrowing her brow, Regina hops the paddock fence and hurries up the path.

“Pearl? What’s wrong?” Her heart twinges with the beginnings of worry. They’re usually very good about keeping quiet in the evenings as to not wake Emma, but Pearl is just about bouncing on the porch after having bellowed across the ranch at her.

“Come on! Hurry!” She rushes into the house with Regina on her heels. To the brunette’s relief, Walter has Emma sitting balanced on his knees, holding the infant as carefully as ever with his big calloused hands. Big green eyes lock onto Regina as she tromps into the sitting room.

“What’s going on?” Regina asks again, confused. Pearl sits next to Walter and they beckon for her to come closer. Regina lowers herself down onto her knees in front of them, eye-level with Emma now.

“Say it again, baby girl,” Pearl coaxes, giving Emma’s belly a little rub with her fingertips. The child giggles and looks back and forth between the women, mouth moving experimentally without actually making a sound.

“What did she say?” There’s a twinge of something in her chest - mild jealousy? She’s not Emma’s real mother but she thought she’d be there to hear Emma’s first word. Apparently not.

“She said ‘abba,’” Pearl chuckles. “Oh, Walt, we still have some old ABBA records, don’t we? We should put ‘em on to celebrate.”

Regina has no idea what they’re talking about but flashes a smile as if she does. When she looks back at Emma, the infant is most definitely staring at her, green eyes big and focused. She can feel Walter and Pearl watching her too, breaths held in anticipation.

“How about you say something for mommy?” Regina asks softly, feigning excitement. Emma blinks at her, eyes crinkling at the corners as her little face scrunches into a smile.

“Mama.”

The fake smile drops from Regina’s face, her eyes widening with genuine shock. The little gasp from Pearl and the hearty chuckle from Walter assures her that she’d heard right, but still she asks in disbelief;

“What did you say?”

“Mama,” Emma gurgles out again, beaming a gummy smile. Regina jumps to her feet and scoops Emma up into her arms, a brilliant smile splitting her features as she laughs in amazement, unable to contain the burst of warmth and excitement in her chest.

“Yes! Say it again, sweetheart. Say it for mommy.”

“Mama,” Emma squeals, clearly sensing Regina’s delight at her babbling. “Mama! Mama!”

Regina laughs and spins and nuzzles Emma, nose rubbing against the infant’s soft cheeks and peppering her face with gentle little kisses, unexplainably _happy_ that this child has laid claim to her as her mother.

A single word should not mean so much to her, but it does. It means the world. And little does Regina know, it will change her life forever.

 

“What’d I tell ya?”

Pearl appears at the window, her gray hair looking silver in the moonlight. Regina is sitting on the wide ledge with Emma curled up asleep on her chest and a book in her free hand. The summer nights are warm and she’s taken to sitting in the window to read before bed.

“You were right,” Regina admits with a wry smile, her other hand rubbing Emma’s back in small, soothing strokes. The infant’s fingers are curled into her shirt and her cheek is pressed to Regina’s skin where her shirt doesn’t quite cover her, the direct contact warm and reassuring.

“You two are real darn cute together,” Pearl says, nodding to herself. “I’m proud of ya, Regina.”

At that, Regina hesitates, one brow lifting. “Proud of me? I haven’t done anything.”

“Well sure ya did.” Pearl scoffs. “You show up here without a dime to your name, a single mother to a babe, all alone. You work with the horses, you help on the ranch, and you’ve finally hit your stride with Emma. Helluva way you’ve come. Walt’s proud of you too, though I tell ya he’s too shy to say it aloud.”

Regina sucks in a breath, unsure of how to respond. Her own mother had never been proud of her, not in a genuine way, yet Pearl says it with this sparkle in her eye that warms her from the inside out. “Thank you, Pearl,” she manages, voice wavering only the slightest.

Pearl reaches in to pat her on the thigh, smiles, then salutes her and toddles off back to the main house, humming a melodic tune that Regina ends up humming softly to herself before she goes to bed that night.

 

“Emma! Come back here, child!” Regina growls softly under her breath, lurching forward to catch the toddler and swing her up into the air before she can go much farther. Emma squeals and laughs, wriggling as she’s slung onto Regina’s hip, the brunette giving a long suffering sigh.

“Walter, I’m so sorry,” she says as the elder man enters the hallway, amused. After escaping the guest house, Emma had managed to track muddy footprints right down the hall of the main house before Regina caught up to her.

“Don’t fret,” he laughs, moving to retrieve some towels from the hallway closet. “Ain’t nothing a bit of cleaning won’t fix. Need help wrangling the filly?”

“I’ve got her.” Regina flashes another apologetic smile and quickly carries Emma out the back door, down the short path back to the guest house. She somehow blackmails the child into cooperating by offering her bubbles and some bath toys, and an hour later she’s wrapping her up in a fluffy towel and combing down her wet blonde hair.

Of course, the moment she turns away to look for a hair tie, the child is gone again.

“Emma?” Regina huffs, hurrying around the small guest house. She finds the child at her desk, clutching a sealed manilla envelope in her hands, eyes big and curious.

“Mama, whassis?” she asks, holding it up. Regina gently takes the envelope with a sigh. It had arrived weeks ago from an inquiry she’d sent out more than half a year prior. She’d been surprised that it had finally turned up, but she hadn’t had the time or energy to open it. After a moment, she sets it back on the desk.

“Just some boring paperwork. Now come on, darling, let’s get you dressed. If you cooperate, maybe I’ll put your hair up in pigtails today.”

“Pigtails!” Emma squeals gleefully and stampedes her way into the bedroom, jumping up onto the bed and then dropping onto her butt. After she’d outgrown the crib she’d taken to sharing the bed with Regina. There wasn’t much room anywhere for another bed and besides, Emma was still at the age where she loved snuggling in with her mother.

Regina pulls out a change of clothes from Emma’s drawer and helps her dress, then she gets to work on the blonde’s hair. Emma loves having her hair touched and it’s one of the only situations where Regina can get her to sit absolutely still for any length of time. Of course, as soon as she’s done, Emma’s on her feet and grabbing for the hair brush.

“Mama’s turn,” she says, dead serious, and Regina holds back a chuckle as the child situates herself behind her, carefully pulling the brush through Regina’s hair. It has grown out significantly since they’d arrive here a little over two years ago, and though the length is starting to be a bit of an inconvenience, she lets it keep growing, knowing how much Emma loves to play with it.

“Come now, sweetheart, we should go help set the table for dinner.” Regina scoops Emma up and carries her to the main house, where she promptly unleashes the child on Walter and then sets the table herself.

“That girl gets bigger n’ bigger every day, I swear,” Pearl laughs, watching Emma and Walter scurry past the kitchen doorway. “Got any ideas for when she’s gotta start school?”

Regina pauses in putting out the cutlery. “I hadn’t really thought that far ahead.” Absently she thinks she’d like to have found her kingdom and returned before then, but the thought is weak. Sometimes she forgets about her reasons for wanting to go back, when every day is full of work and horses and Walter and Pearl and Emma.

“Well, you’re in luck. There’s an elementary, middle, and high school nearby, and the school bus route goes through here. Nothin’ fancy but the education’s good. All mine went there.”

Regina nods along. They’re old schools then, if Pearl’s children used to go there (and they’re all around her age and older now, from what she can tell from Pearl’s family albums.) The idea of sending Emma off on a bus to some school at least a good few miles out makes her stomach flip uncomfortably, though.

“Y’know, when she’s comin’ of age, Walt and I can take you both out there, show you around and settle your nerves.”

“Was I that obvious?” Regina laughs, stepping back as Pearl toddles over with a large platter.

“You look just like I did when I sent my first child to school,” the woman snorts. “Walt had to toss me over his shoulder to stop me from gettin’ on the bus with William.”

“Your eldest son?”

“Mmhm. Nearly did the same thing with my eldest girl, Lauren. Managed not to embarrass the twins like that when it was their turn. Then Pam and Danny had it easiest.” She gives an affectionate sigh and a shake of her head. “Been too long since we’ve had the whole family together, and now we got Emma underfoot, I miss havin’ little ones around. I should talk to Walt, see about gettin’ all the kids and grandkids together one year. What’dya think? Emma’d like to have some cousins to play with, hmm?”

Regina blinks. “Cousins?”

Pearl swats her on the arm as she passes. “A’course, child. You two are family. As far as I’m concerned, you’re both Swans.”

Regina watches the elder woman toddle off back into the kitchen for more platters, and wonders if this is what having a mother is supposed to be like.


	2. Part Two

It’s Emma’s fourth birthday and she’s nearly vibrating with excitement despite it being far too early in the morning, even for a rancher’s standards. It took the better part of a year and a half of planning, but Pearl and Walt are expecting all their children - and their children - to arrive today. Regina’s met some of her offspring throughout the year on separate visits, but it’ll be the first time they’re all together, and Emma can’t wait to have kids near her age to play with.

“Mommy, it’s my birthday!” Emma whispers conspiratorially into Regina’s ear. Regina just groans and snuggles closer, trying to hide her face in Emma's hair.

“I know, baby. Happy birthday. Go back to sleep for a few more hours, okay?”

“But we gots lots to do!”

“Mmhmm…”

“Mommy?”

“Two more hours, Emma.”

Emma pouts but curls up against Regina and waits.

And waits. And waits.

Really, two hours is too long. Emma thrums her fingers and bounces her feet on the mattress. Twenty minutes later and Regina is grudgingly crawling out of bed and getting dressed for the day, knowing sleep will be impossible now that Emma is wide awake and impatient as ever. She’s just about to get started on breakfast when Pearl appears in the kitchen window, cheerful as sunshine despite sunrise still being an hour away, knocking on the glass with a grin.

“Morning, Pearl,” Regina greets, pulling the window open. “Emma, come say good morning.”

“Good morning, Grams,” Emma chirps, bouncing over. Pearl insisted on the moniker as soon as Emma could talk and Regina had to admit, it’s cute.

“Happy Birthday, duckling! Why don’t you and your mama come over for breakfast? I’m makin’ your favourite - waffles.”

Emma makes a little “oooh” sound and plasters herself to Regina’s leg with a pleading little smile. Regina laughs and strokes her hair.

“Go on over with Grams, darling. I’ll be around shortly.”

Her daughter’s off like a rocket, flying out the door and latching onto Pearl’s hand as the elder woman walks her across the yard to the main house, indulging her barrage of curious questions and excitable chatter about her birthday party. With Emma safely out of the guest house, Regina pads over to her desk and unlocks the bottom drawer, digging out the hidden birthday present, already wrapped up in gold paper with a tasteful red bow. It’s a beautiful sterling silver pendant necklace that Walter had helped her pick out one day, when they’d taken the truck to the city to do a bit of shopping. He’d been talking about it with Pearl and insisted on the gift.

“Now I know it ain’t right to make assumptions,” he’d began, wringing his cap between his hands like a shy schoolboy. “But Pearl and I think of you as a daughter, and Emma like a grandbaby, and we’d be mighty pleased to consider you both a part of the Swan family.”

He’d placed the pendant in her hands, and Regina had touched the little swan engraving with a sort of reverence, her eyes glossy.

“Oh, it’s perfect, Walter. I know she’d love this _. I_ love it.” She’d blinked away a tear and Walter had stepped forward to pull her into a hug, one that reminded her of what her father’s embraces used to feel like, once upon a time.

As Regina now pulls the little gift box out from the drawer, the ribbon snags on a manilla envelope and pulls it out. Regina snatches it up from where it falls to the ground with a frown. Funny how she’d managed to forget about it for so long. Sitting down, she tears open the side and pulls free a thin stack of papers.

Dark eyes scan the paperwork quickly, uncertain of what to expect. After so long, it had become easier and easier to forget about why she wanted to find and claim her cursed kingdom, and she’d never expected a search of her own name to yield any results. This paper documents the life of Regina Mills - her own supposed life - as mayor of Storybrooke, Maine. No spouse, no children, no family of any kind. An absolute loner who runs a small town in the middle of nowhere.

She and Emma hadn’t been taken by the curse, so it makes sense that she was never given the knowledge and memories required for this world. A part of her wonders what Storybrooke is like and how it could possibly be running right now, seeing as she’s never been there to oversee the town. A part of her wonders what Snow White’s cursed life is like.

The thought brings with it an ugly voice that reminds her that Emma is not truly hers.

She shoves the thought away, just like she shoves the papers back into the drawer and slams it shut.

Pearl’s children and grandkids arrive shortly after breakfast, on time and bearing gifts, with only one of her sons unable to attend due to a work emergency. It’s Regina’s first time meeting the eldest, William, and the youngest daughter, Pamela. She greets them and their families with reserved politeness, treading carefully as always until they assure her that she is more than welcome as a part of the Swan family. She’s met Lauren and the twins, Charles and Charlotte, on separate occasions the last year, and is warmer in her greetings to their respective families. They all have one or two children of their own, some Emma’s age and some a little older, so the kids happily run off to play in the yard as soon as they arrive. William’s teenage daughter and Lauren’s pre-teen son promise to keep an eye on the younglings as extra incentive for the adults to relax in the main house with drinks.

Pearl looks pleased with herself once all the adults are settled down in the living room, drinks in hand and warm conversation and laughter filling the room. She grins over to where Regina sits between Lauren and Charlotte, happy to see the brunette making friends with her daughters. Pearl nods to herself. A job well done indeed. “Helluva birthday party!”

“Ma! Please tell me you don’t use that language around Emma,” Lauren laments, and Regina chuckles, reminded of why she liked Pearl’s eldest daughter upon first meeting. The woman lives in the city with her husband and two children, with a good and respectable job and an attractive fashion sense to boot. She’d coaxed Regina out to the city with her for a shopping trip a few months back and is the reason Regina now wears a flattering fitted grey dress for Emma’s birthday. She appreciates all the jeans and shirts and plaid that Pearl had given her when she’d first arrived in this world with nothing, of course - Pearl had been close to her size in her youth so the old clothes fitted her well enough - but it was certainly not her style.

“So Regina, Ma tells me that you’ve mastered her special apple pie recipe?” Pamela pipes up, already beaming at the brunette like she’s found a long lost sister. Regina hesitates, unsure of making any claims on ‘mastering’ what is clearly a family recipe.

“Your mother is a very good teacher,” she says diplomatically. Pam snickers and Pearl snorts.

“Bull. If I were, the twins would know how to bake their own instead of visitin’ every few months for nothin’ but my baking.”

“Low blow!” “Aw, Ma!” the twins complain in tandem.

Emma’s fourth birthday party is a huge success, and Regina ends up enjoying herself far more than she’d expected. Pearl’s children are friendly and honest in nature - they’ve already accepted her as a sister and she’s starting to forget how lonely she used to be as a single child - and the grandkids are cute enough. Regina even gets to hold Charlotte’s infant at some point in the night, which Regina finds she misses. Emma is still a snuggle-bug, of course, but it’s different having a tiny newborn weight cradled in your arms.

There’s such an abundance of food thanks to the families all bringing their own contributions as if it were some massive potluck party that Pearl ends up inviting over their hired farmhands. The handful of young men are grateful for the inclusion and the free food, and when one of the more persistent ones tries to chat up Regina, the tall and broad shouldered William Swan gives him a good natured talking-to while the Swan twins flank her protectively, as if shielding a younger sister from boys.

“Having fun, darling?” Regina asks at some point in the evening when Emma checks in with her, ever the momma’s girl. The blonde’s cheeks are flushed and she’s glowing with delight, absolutely thrilled to have cousins to play with. The swan pendant necklace sits around her neck, a gift she’d fawned over and promised she would “never ever ever ever” take off for the rest of her life, much to Pearl and Walter’s joy.

“Uh huh! You having fun too, Mommy?” She stands next to Regina’s seat, half-sprawled over Regina’s lap, and the brunette laughs and strokes her hair.

“I am, sweet pea. Your birthday party is spectacular. Why don’t you go give Grams another hug and a thank-you? She’s been working away in the kitchen all day for you.”

“Kay!” Emma bolts off for the kitchen, quickly chased after by two of the other young children. Some of the other parents sitting with Regina around the cleared off dining table laugh.

“Your daughter is too precious,” Pam croons.

“Want to trade?” Lauren teases. “Mine is in his rebellious pre-teen years and thinks he’s too cool to even give me a hug anymore.”

“You can take mine,” Charlotte chimes in, still rocking her infant in her arms. “I wouldn’t mind a proper night’s sleep for once.”

Regina smiles, just happy to be a part of all this, having loving parental figures and a roomful of siblings, and glad that Emma has the big happy family she deserves.

 

“I can’t thank you two enough, truly.”

“Nonsense. We’re more than happy to. It’s what family does. You just do what you have to do, we’ll be here when you get back.” Pearl beams and gives Regina a crushing hug before stepping back and letting her crouch down by Emma.

“Do you has to go?” Emma asks, pouting fiercely. Regina pulls her close and kisses her sweetly, running a hand through her blonde hair.

“I have to, sweetheart, but I’ll be back in a day or two at the most, I promise. Grams and Gramps will take good care of you in the meantime.”

“Will miss you,” her daughter mumbles, hugging her tightly. Regina kisses her forehead and returns the squeeze.

“I’ll miss you too, my little princess.”

The taxi ride over is long, but not unbearable. Regina was shocked when her driver turned out to be the very same man who’d driven her to the Swan ranch and stables almost five years ago. He remembers her and is delighted to hear that she’s found a family, asking about how her daughter is and how she’s settled in. When they finally drive past a sign that says “Welcome to Storybrooke” half a day later, he gives her a reassuring smile.

“No rush, I’ll pause the meter and hang around while you do your thing,” he offers, watching her fiddle anxiously with the map in her lap. Regina stifles a sigh.

“Regardless, I’ll try to be quick. I don’t want to be here much longer than is necessary.”

He nods and follows her remaining instructions to the address of what looks to be a mayoral mansion. Regina gapes in surprise. She’s come to understand this world quite decently since they arrived and she can’t imagine how much this place must cost. Of course, the whole point of coming was to claim her personal effects; paperwork and ID that the curse had magicked into existence for her. Hopefully she can provide Emma with so much more once she takes control of her supposedly wealthy bank account.

It’s a quick walk up the paved path to the house, but when she gets to the front door, she realizes she doesn’t actually have a way in. This is supposed to be her house, but she has no key. Checking that the taxi driver isn’t watching, she circles the house instead, figuring she can sneak in through a window or something. To her annoyance, the place is locked up tight.

“Well, it’s _my_ house,” she mutters to herself, before picking up a sizable rock from the back garden and breaking open a glass pane in the back door as quietly as she can. Reaching in and unlocking the door, she lets herself in.

The place is lavish and beautiful, but it’s clearly not been lived in for years. A fine layer of dust coats the furniture and the house is somewhat stuffy from a lack of airflow. Regina checks the first floor, taking note of many of her personal items located in the study, then heads upstairs to the master bedroom. It’s like the place comes with all necessities. She finds a duffel bag and fills it up with the clothes in the walk-in closet, pleased that these match her style so much more - Lauren is going to love her new wardrobe - and fits in a few pairs of the most sensible heels. The more expensive stilettos won’t survive a life on the ranch so she leaves them be with a longing glance.

Done with the bedroom, Regina drags her bag down to the study and promptly takes apart the room, searching every drawer and cabinet for anything that may be of use. She finds a wallet with her own ID card and some bank cards, a passport, and the deeds to the mayoral mansion. Everything is carefully tucked away into her bag, though the wallet goes into the back pocket of her jeans. She considers changing into something from her new wardrobe, but the past five years have gotten her used to jeans and plaid and she doesn’t mind the comfortable clothes for now. Besides, she feels strange and alienated in this house that was made for her, and her current plaid shirt is a comfort, smelling of Emma’s favourite apple scented bath bubbles.

She spends ten more minutes simply exploring the house, in awe of how everything is magically tailored to her tastes. Her old collection of books take up the study’s shelves, and one of her favourite marble horse statues from the palace has been repurposed in the sitting room. She’s getting ready to leave and say goodbye to this life that could have been, when something draws her up to the master bedroom one last time. Allowing the odd feeling to guide her, she opens the small drawer of the bedside table and pulls out a little box. Within a black velvet cushion sits Daniel’s ring.

Tears spring into her eyes and she carefully lifts the ring between her fingers, rotating it until she can see the faintest vision of his face within the metal circle. She doesn’t know why this little bit of magic still works in this land without magic, but she’s grateful nonetheless. The sadness weighing down in her chest is familiar, but for the first time in years, there is no anger or desire for revenge with it. No bitterness or pain. Just a sadness that washes over her like a gentle wave as she takes in the sight of his smile and his eyes, so achingly familiar despite how long it's been.

Regina ends up putting the ring on a chain and wearing it close to her heart, hidden beneath her shirt. With a deep breath, she hefts up her duffel bag, exits the building, and shuts the front door with firm finality.

The taxi driver helps her load her bag into the trunk. Before she gets back in the cab, a voice calls out to her from just a few paces down the street.

“Mayor Mills?”

Regina grits her teeth and turns, not in response to the title but rather that she’s being called upon at all. She’d hoped to get away without anyone seeing her, if this town is indeed populated by the denizens of the Enchanted Forest.

“Yes?” she asks, unable to put a face to a name. He’s an awkward looking man in a vest and cap, walking a large Dalmatian on a leash. The shock on his face is almost funny.

“It-It’s you! It’s really you!” When she simply stares at him, confused, he continues, “You’ve been missing for… uh… for years! We were worried. Where have you been, Madame Mayor?”

“Nowhere you need to concern yourself with,” Regina says haughtily, uncomfortable with the way he looks at her with disbelief. Clearly he’s never expected to see her in denim and plaid. She’s also entirely sure that no one could possibly have been worried about her - not in regards to her wellbeing, anyway. “Run along, peasant.”

He looks taken aback and shocked into silence as Regina hurriedly ducks into the cab and asks the driver to go. The man’s plaintive shout of “Wait, Mayor Mills! Where are you going?” is ignored as they cruise down the street, but of course they can’t escape the cursed town without her seeing Snow White.

The woman’s hair is cut short and she scurries down the sidewalk in a shy, mouse-like way, but Regina would recognize her anywhere. She forgets to breathe and simply stares slack-jawed out the window as they drive past, startled green eyes lifting to meet the brown ones in the taxi at the last second.

Despite the taxi driver’s good intentions, he cannot coax Regina out of her withdrawn silence for the rest of the drive home. They eventually have to stop at a motel for the night since it’s a long drive back; Regina pays for both their rooms and tells him to get whatever he wants from room service since she’s now a wealthy woman, apparently. She ends up calling the house to say goodnight to Emma, but she doesn’t truly relax until they’re back at the Swan ranch the next afternoon and Emma is running to jump into her arms with a gleeful shout of “Mommy!”

Regina’s knees hit the ground and she hugs Emma to her a little more tightly than is necessary, and Emma tries to hug her back just as tight. She ends up paying the taxi driver generously, treats Pearl and Walter out to a nice restaurant nearer the city that evening, and goes to bed that night with Emma safe and secure in her arms.

“Are you okay, Mommy?” Emma whispers, comfortably snuggled into Regina’s chest with her head resting against the brunette’s collarbone.

“Of course I am, sweetheart. Why do you ask?”

“You look sad.” Big green eyes peer up at her, worried. Regina smiles and strokes her cheek.

“Don’t you worry about me, darling. I’m fine.”

Emma purses her lips, contemplative. After a moment, her fingers find the ring on Regina’s necklace, gently tugging it up out of Regina’s nightshirt. “This is pretty. Did you buy it when you were on your trip?”

“No… This is from someone I used to know a long time ago.” Regina gently touches a finger to the ring when Emma holds it in her palm. The girl tilts her head, noticing the unshed tears in her mother’s eyes even in the darkness of their bedroom.

“Do you miss them?”

“I do.”

“I’m sorry you’re sad.” Emma releases the ring to put her arms around Regina’s neck, hugging her a little closer. Regina kisses her blonde hair, breathing in deeply of her familiar shampoo.

“Thank you, Emma, but I can never be sad as long as I have you.”

Emma grins and leans up to plant a big kiss on Regina’s cheek. “I love you, Mommy.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

 

Pearl hadn’t been exaggerating about the first day of school. Walter had actually threatened to throw Regina over his shoulder if she tried to get on the bus with Emma. He was old but he hadn’t lost any of the muscle from working the lands his entire life, and Regina wasn’t about to give him a reason to truss her up like a goat.

“Take it easy, child, she’ll be fine.” Pearl pats her arm as they watch Emma’s blonde hair make its way down the school bus aisle and pick out an empty seat. A moment later, her heart shaped face appears in the window, big green eyes seeking out Regina’s across the road and a little hand lifting in a wave.

“She looks nervous,” Regina laments, waving back as calmly as she can.

“Every kid is nervous on their first day,” Walter assures her. “She’ll love first grade, I promise. It’s taught by Ms. Mabel Whitehill. Woman’s ancient but she taught all our kids and did right by ‘em.”

Pearl chuckles and shakes her head at her husband.

“Oh, there she goes,” Regina murmurs, wringing her hands together as the school bus rolls off down the road, watching Emma wave until they can no longer see her at the window.

“Come on inside for some tea.” Pearl pulls her into the kitchen as Walter splits off towards the stables.

“I’ll saddle up Rocinante for ya,” he says with a grin, the women watching after him. He’d overheard Regina calling the horse as such once and was more than happy to let her rename the stallion. “Ya look like you could use a good long ride, and it’ll help ya relax till Emma gets home.”

Pearl sits her down for tea and biscuits in the parlour, and after she changes into riding pants and high boots, she takes Rocinante out onto the trails.

Ever since reclaiming her ID and bank accounts, Regina is pretty much set for a long and comfortable life. She has no idea how the curse managed to create a rich bank account for her from out of nothing but she isn’t about to question it. She no longer has to work the ranch for her stay, instead insisting on paying Pearl and Walter for rent, but helps out in the stables nonetheless, loving her time with the horses.

“Come on, Rocinante,” she coaxes as they come upon a long stretch of flat trails. “Fly!”

She gives him free rein and grips his mane, feeling his muscles bunch up as he springs into action and races off through the woods. Every stride and every jump leaves Regina breathless, her braid whipping in the wind behind her, her cheeks flushed with adrenaline. She imagines her father in his youth, riding just ahead of her, laughing and beaming at her with pride as she gives chase. She imagines the shouting of the hunting party, the thunder of hoofbeats, the whiz of arrows flying through the air. For a few hours, she relives her youth in the Enchanted Forest.

When she returns home later that afternoon, she washes Rocinante off and helps Pearl with dinner. She’s the first one out the front door when the school bus returns and Emma comes running down the path and barrelling into her arms, hardly able to contain her excitement in telling her all about her first day at school.

 

Emma is nine when she discovers the papers. She knows better than to go through her mother’s things, of course, but Regina is out in the stables and she’s just looking for some spare paper to draw on. The thin stack might not have even caught her attention if not for her mother’s name at the top of it. She pulls it free, curious, and reads the document over three times before she can really understand what it is she’s looking at.

She spends dinner that evening in silent contemplation, not wanting to admit to her mother that she’d gone through her desk and found something she’s sure she wasn’t supposed to. Pearl touches her forehead and asks if she’s feeling unwell - she’s never been a quiet child after all - and she shrugs it off and pretends that she’s tired. She goes to bed early that night and says nothing when the mattress sinks slightly and Regina snuggles in next to her like she always does.

In the morning, she can contain her inner turmoil no longer.

“Why did you leave Storybrooke, Mom?”

Regina’s head snaps up, eyes wide and shocked, nearly dropping her mug of coffee. Pearl and Walter go quiet. Regina had spoken to them briefly about it before - vaguely mentioning escaping Storybrooke to get away from someone who would otherwise take Emma away from her. They’d read between the lines, assumed she ran from an abusive relationship, and agreed to never speak of it again.

“That’s… Where did you hear about that?” For a moment she worries that Pearl or Walter had divulged this information to Emma. The sting of betrayal is sharp and painful. Emma redirects her concern when she admits to having found the document in Regina’s desk.

“How come you never told me?”

“Because it’s in my past, Emma, and it doesn’t matter anymore.”

Green eyes harden and lips purse into a straight line. Emma’s made that face before whenever they got into arguments, but there’s something slightly different about it this time. Something harder, more suspicious.

“It matters because I’m adopted.”

That punches the remaining air out of Regina’s lungs. She blinks rapidly in panic and feels Pearl reach over to touch her hand supportively.

“Emma--”

“I’m adopted, aren’t I? The papers said you don’t have a husband or kids. It’s why I don’t look like you, isn’t it?”

“It’s…” Regina struggles to regain her breath, just as she struggles to find the right words. “It’s very complicated, sweetheart--”

“Tell me,” Emma demands, expression closing off further, and suddenly Regina wants to do whatever it takes for Emma to stop looking at her like that.

“Yes,” she whispers, voice cracking. Then, a little louder and more solemnly, “Yes.”

Emma storms away from the dining table and disappears into another part of the house. Regina sits frozen, heart aching, dark eyes hurt.

“I’ll talk to her,” Pearl offers gently, patting her cheek before ambling off after the child. Walter clears his throat and reaches over to grasp her hand with his much larger, calloused one.

“She’s young, and it’s a lot to take in. She just needs a bit of time is all. Don’t worry yourself too much, Regina. She’ll come around.”

Emma doesn’t return to the guest house that night. Pearl drops by to let Regina know that the child is asleep in their guest bedroom, looking apologetic and sympathetic. Regina nods silently and sleeps in her bed alone for the first time in years, missing the warmth of her child in her arms.

 

Emma eventually apologizes for her behavior and Regina spends the next few weeks constantly assuring her that she still loves her as if she were her own, but there’s a rift between them that doesn’t completely go away after that. Hugs and kisses are less commonplace and the “I love you’s” don’t carry the same weight as they used to.

Regina starts putting her wealth to use, renovating the guest house with Pearl and Walter’s permission so that they have more space, and buying Emma anything and everything her heart desires. Emma likes the attention and she likes her newly built bedroom even more, but she’s a smart girl and the material gifts don’t deter her from her questions. Regina claims that it was a closed adoption and she knows nothing of her biological parents, but the way she turns quiet and almost sad tells Emma that there’s more to the story. There’s more that Regina won’t tell her.

She tries to ask her Grams and Gramps - nearly begs them to get the information out of Regina. But Walter scolds her softly for her disregard for Regina’s feelings and Pearl sits her down and tells her that it’s complicated and she shouldn’t blame her mother for it.

Sometimes she notices a look of sadness on her mother’s face when Regina doesn’t think she’s looking. She once woke up in the middle of the night for a glass of water and, upon creeping by her mother’s bedroom, noticed the woman sitting curled up at the head of her bed, crying and clutching at the little ring she always wears around her neck now. Those nights she goes to bed feeling horrible and wanting to comfort her.

Other times, she tries to bring up a question and can immediately see the walls going up by the way Regina’s eyes harden and her jaw sets, and she reminds herself that her mother continues to hide something from her, and that fuels her stubbornness to maintain that new and lonely divide in their relationship.

 

She’s ten years old when her third grade teacher gives her a storybook.

Mrs. Campbell had discovered the storybook while unpacking old boxes and - not remembering ever owning such an item and figuring she really had no use for it - decided to gift it to Emma. The blonde had been in low spirits all year and she’d heard of the rumors about the child being adopted (you didn’t live in a small town and work at a local schoolhouse without hearing such things) and thought that perhaps Emma would find some inspiration in the book of fairytales.

“Hope is a very powerful thing, you know, and the stories in this book are full of hope,” she’d told Emma with a little smile. “I think you’ll like them. Happy endings aren’t always what we think they will be. Sometimes they can come from the most unexpected of places.”

Good as her intentions might have been, Mrs. Campbell didn’t know about the stories near the end of the book - the pages that told Emma of how an Evil Queen stole Snow White and Prince Charming’s baby and whisked her away to another world, raising her as her own, never to be reunited with her real parents. If she’d known, she would have never given her the book at all.

 

Regina senses yet another change in her relationship with Emma. The past year has been turbulent at best and explosive at worst, and she misses the days when her daughter still slept in her bed, snuggled closely together, but at least she’d had some hope that they would eventually get over it. When Emma returns home from school today, however, the blonde avoids her, avoids even looking at her, and she can sense mistrust in the way she chooses her words carefully and doesn’t say more than is asked of her.

Pearl tries to reassure her that all children go through difficult phases, and Walter tells her funny stories about how all their children had gone through rebellious moments too, but nothing can settle the anxiety twisting around in Regina’s gut that tells her that something is wrong. That her pleasant lie of a life is finally over and there is nothing she can do to stop her relationship with her daughter spiralling out of control. She sits on the edge of Emma’s bed that night with one last desperate attempt to find out what’s changed.

“You know you can tell me anything, sweetheart,” she tries, hopeful. Emma just gives her a blank look, eyes unreadable and expression closed off.

“I know. Goodnight, Mom.”

Regina has to stifle a small sob when she leans down to kiss Emma’s forehead, noticing the way she turns her head away slightly at the gesture. “Goodnight, Emma.”


	3. Part Three

Days later, it all comes crashing down.

They’re in the middle of an argument and Regina is upset and frustrated and wishes, _wishes with all her might,_ that Emma would just talk to her instead of closing off and resisting her at every turn, when Emma finally hurls out the words she’d hoped to never hear again.

“Because you’re the Evil Queen!” she snaps, fury in her bright green eyes, and Regina’s sudden shocked silence only confirms her suspicions. “You stole me from my real parents and took me far away because you’re _evil!”_

The shouting has Pearl and Walter standing at their back door with worried concern but by then, Regina is already crying. She sinks down onto a chair and sobs into her hands, too distraught to follow when Emma storms out of the house. Pearl comes over a while later to reassure her that Emma’s safe and in their guest room again, fast asleep after her angry outburst.

“She was showing us this,” says Pearl, setting the storybook on the table. Regina glances over the gold embossed title - _Once Upon a Time_ is its unoriginal title - before flipping the cover and skimming through its stories. She doesn’t even have the energy to be surprised when she recognizes the portrayed characters as people she actually knew from the Enchanted Forest.

“I’m the Evil Queen,” she states quietly, Emma’s words echoing in her mind. Pearl touches her arm with a soft squeeze.

“Now now, don’t take her words to heart. She’s just… confused. Goin’ through some things, what with the whole adoption thing. When kids don’t understand why we do what we do, it’s easier for ‘em to cast us as villains. She’ll come to her senses, ya just gotta be patient with her.”

Regina turns the page and sees herself illustrated in the picture. It’s stylized enough that it’s not a perfect likeness, not enough for Pearl to do a double take, but she sees herself clearly in it; black corset and feather cape and blood red lips. The very same outfit she’d arrived in this world in. She wonders if Emma has discovered it folded away in a box in the closet yet. Probably not, if it hasn’t been shoved in her face as evidence of her past self yet.

“She’ll never forgive me,” Regina murmurs, shutting the book, her eyes closing with tired defeat. “She wants her real parents.”

Pearl frowns. “You _are_ her real parent. You changed every diaper, kissed every papercut, and soothed every fever. I watched you fall in love with that little girl throughout these past ten years, and she loves you just as much. Don’tcha ever think you ain’t her real mother.”

“What difference does it make?” Regina gives a bitter laugh. “She wants them. And when she meets them, she won’t want me anymore. I’ll lose her, just like I lose everyone I love.”

“Well I’d like to think you love me n’ Walt,” Pearl says, shaking Regina’s arm until she looks up at her. “But we love you, my kids love you, and we ain’t going nowhere. So don’tchu give me bull about losin’ people you love, ‘cause we’re here now and ya can’t get rid of us.”

“Pearl,” Regina breathes out, smiling sadly at her. “I do love you all.”

“Good. Now forget about all these silly notions of losing Emma, ‘cause she’s just as much part of this family, and your family’s not going anywhere.”

Regina goes quiet, not wanting to argue the point. Pearl tilts her head at her.

“You _do_ know who her parents are, don’t you?”

“Yes,” comes the whispered reply.

“You should tell her,” Pearl suggest after a moment. “Emma’s stubborn as a donkey and she won’t let it go now until she knows. You just need to be honest with her and tell her the truth. Sooner you get it over with, sooner she’ll realize that you’re the one she wants.”

“But what if I’m not?”

“You will be,” Pearl says with finality. “You’re a helluva mother, Regina, and you love her. Genuine love is the most powerful thing in the world. Have faith in it.”

 

She sits Emma down the next day after she’s back from school. The blonde has her arms crossed and a stubborn frown on her face, intent on resisting whatever it is Regina might say to her today, so her shock is clear when Regina sits down across from her and says, softly and sadly, “You deserve the truth. Ask me anything. I’ll answer as best I can.”

Green eyes narrow in disbelief, expecting this to be some kind of trick. “Who are my parents?”

Regina glances back, making sure the guest house is empty and Pearl or Walter aren’t within hearing range. She turns back to Emma with a sigh. “Snow White and Prince David.”

Emma blinks. Her brows furrow. “I was right? The stories really are true?”

“Yes.”

“Then you’re really…”

Regina looks down at her hands. “The Evil Queen.”

They sit in silence for a minute. Regina’s heart feels like it’s slowly crumbling apart when Emma does not voice her feelings. Instead she changes the subject.

“Why did you take me away from my parents?”

The answer to that is so long and so complicated, and Regina’s not sure Emma will understand her reasoning. “Emma, please know that I do love you, truly--”

“Tell me why.”

She sucks in a painful breath. “Snow White hurt me, so I wanted to hurt her back.”

Emma frowns. The book never mentioned the illustrious Snow White doing harm to anyone. Of course it didn’t, Regina thinks bitterly. The heroes can do no wrong, while the villains are nothing but evil.

“How did she hurt you?”

“Sweetheart…”

“I want to know.”

Regina instinctively reaches up to grab her necklace, fingers closing around the ring and taking some tiny semblance of comfort from it. Emma watches the action and suddenly isn’t so sure she wants to know the answer.

“She’s the reason I lost someone I loved very much. He died because of her.”

“He gave you that ring?” Emma questions, her voice quiet. Regina nods. “Was he going to marry you?”

Her fist tightens, the ring biting into her palm. She swallows around the lump in her throat. “Yes.”

Emma looks down, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. She feels bad, wishing that this conversation didn’t hurt Regina the way it seems to, but she needs to know.

“So my parents and all the other fairytale characters are in Storybrooke.”

“Yes.”

“And that’s where you went last time, on your trip.”

“Yes.”

“Did you see them? Did you see my parents?”

Regina closes her eyes. Every time Emma calls them her ‘parents’ is like a stab to her heart. She sucks in a wavering breath, trying not to let it kill her inside. “I saw your… I saw Snow White.”

“Did she want to see me?” There’s a glimmer of hope in Emma’s eyes. Regina wonders if this is what having one’s heart crushed feels like.

“She doesn’t remember, Emma.” Her shoulders slump and she tries to convey how sorry she is, but a part of her can’t truly be sorry, not when she hates the idea of Emma being Snow’s daughter instead of hers. “They’re all under a curse. They don’t remember who they are.”

 

She shouldn’t be here. _Emma_ shouldn’t be here. But Emma had demanded it, and Regina never was able to deny her anything. They’d taken a cab after promising Pearl and Walter they would be back as soon as they were finished, and Pearl had hugged Regina and told her to be strong, that it would all be alright in the end. Regina wasn’t sure she believed her.

Storybrooke is as quiet as when she’d first visited, and the cab drops them off outside of the mayoral mansion. Regina promises him twice the pay to stick around and wait for them, since there doesn't seem to be any other vehicles around that leaves the little town. He shrugs and turns off the car.

“This is your house?” Emma asks as they stand outside the mansion. Regina frowns at the large white building, nearly wringing her purse in her hands.

“This is the house the curse made for me, yes. I’ve only been here once before.”

Emma nods, then looks around the street, taking in the picturesque neighborhood. “Where do my parents live?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart.” Regina reaches for her shoulder, but Emma moves away and starts walking down the street.

“I’ll walk around until I find them then,” she says.

Regina just follows in silence.

They pass a few unfamiliar people on the way, Emma examining all of them as if half expecting them to look like fairytale characters straight out of the book. She seems vaguely disappointed but says nothing until they come to what looks more like town center, a row of homely little shops on one side and a humble diner on the other. Emma halts by the fence when the smell of a hot grilled cheese sandwich wafts out from the diner, and Regina’s lips quirk with a hint of a smile.

“Would you like to take a break and have lunch? It looks like they make your favourite.”

Emma turns and starts to grin at her, but the smile drops and she just nods silently before forging on ahead into the diner. Walking into a restaurant at the height of lunch hour seems a poor idea but Regina swallows down her reservations and follows after her daughter.

Sure enough, all heads turn when the bell chimes over the door, signalling the mayor’s return to the sleepy little town of Storybrooke.

Regina had expected recognition. She doesn’t expect nearly everyone in the room to start talking to her all at once, asking where she’s been and if she’s okay. In the sudden chaos, Emma shrinks back and ends up hiding behind Regina, clinging to her suit jacket. Regina had had the foresight to dress a little more appropriately for this return trip, at least. She didn’t want to explain why she was dressed like a stablehand.

“Quiet!” she snaps, holding up a hand to halt their babbling. To her pleasant surprise, everyone’s mouths snap shut. Evidently they still know to obey her. Good. Her free hand rests on Emma’s shoulder, letting the child hide her face against her side. “I don’t need to explain myself to any of you. Go back to your business and leave us be.”

It’s almost frightening how easily she can slip back into that cold, commanding tone of voice. Emma remains attached to her side, though Regina can feel her head tilting up to look at her. She avoids her eyes and instead leads her daughter towards an unoccupied booth in the back, ignoring everyone and relieved that they all actually sit back down and shut their mouths. Everyone’s still staring at them, of course, but no one has the nerve to approach.

The waitress wearily strides over after a moment of shock, setting down two menus for them. “Uh… can I start you two off with something to drink, Madame Mayor?”

“Red?” Regina says, a brow lifting in surprised recognition. The waitress gives her an odd look - her nametag says “Ruby” - so she quickly continues, “Coffee for me, apple juice for my daughter.”

“Your-- your daughter,” Ruby repeats, stuttering with shock. She blinks at Emma and then quickly snaps back to attention. “Right. Coffee, apple juice.”

The young woman hurries off, and Regina can’t help but wonder why the curse decided to turn Red Riding Hood into a skimpy waitress. She doesn’t have much time to think on it when she can feel Emma’s eyes boring into her.

“The curse made you the mayor?” she asks, to which Regina nods. “Everyone knows you.”

“Evidently. Since I wasn’t taken by the curse, however, I don’t know anything about this town.”

Ruby returns with their drinks, and after a quick perusal of the menu, Regina orders a chicken salad for herself and a grilled cheese for Emma. She tries to answer all of Emma’s questions over lunch, but she’s at a loss for many things and truth be told, there are some things that she just can’t put into words, not in a way that Emma would understand. The blonde is clearly unhappy with her so she makes another attempt when she’s paying Ruby at the counter.

“Who is your best friend here?” she asks, to which Ruby furrows her brow.

“I’m sorry?”

“Your best friend. Who is it?”

“Uh… I don’t really…” She makes a face and shrugs her shoulder.

“Fine. I’m looking for a woman; black hair, pale skin, has a thing for birds.”

Again, Ruby crinkles her brow. An older woman steps up next to her, looking Regina over with a critical eye.

“Sounds like you’re describing Mary Margaret Blanchard,” the woman huffs, eyeing Emma curiously. Regina shifts to keep Emma behind her.

“Where can I find this woman?”

“She’s a teacher over at the elementary school.”

“And where is the school?”

Both the old woman and Ruby look at her like she’s gone absolutely mad. It’s a struggle to keep her expression neutral when all Regina wants to do is glare and hurl insults, but Emma is here and she refuses to give her any reason to call her the Evil Queen again.

“Down the street that way a few blocks, you can't miss it,” the woman eventually says, pointing in a direction. “You back for good, Mayor Mills?”

Regina opens her mouth to say no, but shuts her mouth instead, tosses a fifty dollar bill on the counter, and quickly marches out of the diner with Emma in tow.

 

She didn’t think it would hurt this much. Or rather she didn’t expect to go through this kind of pain again, not after Daniel. Yet here she stands, with this nervous Mary Margaret Blanchard standing before her, and Emma shuffling between them with eyes only for her biological mother. Mary Margaret fears the mayor just as much as everyone else does, but it doesn’t mean she believes her.

“I… I don’t understand, Madame Mayor,” she says, timid as a mouse. Regina grits her teeth so hard that her jaw actually hurts.

“You don’t need to understand. Emma will somehow break the curse on her twenty eighth birthday, as Rumplestiltskin prophesied. Until then, you simply need to look after her.” She forces out the words, acid burning the back of her throat. Emma insists on being reunited with Snow White and Regina refuses to stay here for it. She _can’t_ stay here for it. She can’t stay here and watch Emma find her happily ever after with someone else. She can’t watch Snow White win again. She’ll run back to the Swan ranch, return to Pearl and Walter, try to make do with the family she has left.

Nevermind that Emma is the only one who truly matters.

“But she-- she’s just a child! I can’t raise a child. Please, Madame Mayor, this makes no sense--”

“Do not fight me on this, Snow,” Regina growls, which immediately silences the younger brunette, though she continues to look at Regina with something akin to sympathy. As if Regina has a mental illness. “You will… you will take care of my-- of  _your_  daughter.”

Regina then ignores Snow and drops down to a knee in front of Emma, tears already prickling at her eyes when she sees the tentative hope in Emma’s eyes. That her daughter would look at her with gratitude for returning her to her biological mother.

She barely holds back a sob.

“I’m sorry I can’t give you more,” she says, gently grasping Emma by her shoulders. “I wish I could fix it for you. But you’ll be able to break the curse on your twenty eighth birthday, and then everyone will get their memories back. You’ll have the life you’ve always wanted.”

Emma shuffles, caught between grateful for this kindness and upset that she’s made Regina look so sad. But this is the way it’s supposed to be, isn’t it? Her whole life has been a lie and now she is finally being reunited with her real mother. So why does she feel so bad? Why does her chest hurt to see Regina crying?

“Thank you,” she says instead. Regina always taught her to say thank-you in moments like these. Regina seems to recognize it and the tears in her eyes spill over as she forces a smile to her lips, leaning forward to squeeze Emma to her in a hug. It lasts a few long seconds and she has to force herself to let go, holding Emma away at arm’s length once more. This is her goodbye, and she can’t remember how to breathe properly.

“No matter what you think, no matter what anyone tells you, I do love you.”

With a soft sob, Regina presses a kiss to Emma’s forehead. One last kiss before she loses her daughter forever.

 

True Love’s magic pulses out from where her lips touch Emma’s skin, a rush of wind fluttering their hair and pushing Snow White back into a stumble. Regina’s eyes widen and she stares into Emma’s green ones, struggling to comprehend what this means.

“Mom?” Emma questions, confused. “What happened? Was that magic?”

 _True Love’s Kiss._ Regina’s lips part in surprise. She didn’t think… didn’t ever imagine that it was something she could have experienced in her life, not after the dark path she’d gone down. She wants to laugh and kiss Emma again and pick her up and spin her, but the sad truth is that this changes nothing. Emma still wants to be with her real mother. She’ll still leave her.

“Emma…?”

They both look up to where Mary Margaret stands. But this young woman is no longer timid; her stance is defensive and there’s something stubborn and rebellious in her expression. This is the Snow White that Regina remembers, which means she’s broken the curse.

“Snow,” Regina whispers. The other woman’s eyes lock onto her, startled surprise slowly turning to realization when she remembers what’s just occurred.

“Regina,” Snow breathes out. Then her expression hardens. “Get away from my daughter!”

Regina jumps back at the same time Snow lunges forward to place herself between the Queen and Emma. And then she’s suddenly painfully aware of the other people nearby; teachers standing by the door of the school, other parents standing near the playground with their children, the man in a vest walking his Dalmatian just down the street. Everyone has their memories back, and everyone is staring at Snow White and the Evil Queen.

“Emma,” Regina says once more, a broken plea, a desperate wish that Emma knows that she loves her. Snow holds Emma back behind her, angry and prepared for a fight, and others are already starting to move towards them, ready to defend their rightful queen.

“Mom?” Emma cries out, eyes desperately seeking Regina’s, suddenly afraid now that everyone - even her own beloved hero Snow White - has grown aggressive towards the Evil Queen.

Regina turns and runs.

 

She runs and runs and runs, breathing ragged and eyes blurred with tears. No one stops her, but she can feel everyone’s eyes on her as she sprints down the sidewalk as if her life depends on it. And it very well may, if the hatred in Snow White’s eyes were any indication.

Snow and her Prince will demand her head on a plate for what she’s done.

Absently, she thinks the better part of the last ten years are worth it.

The taxi isn’t in front of the house when she gets to it. Swearing under her breath, Regina hurries up the walkway and into the house. She’d left it unlocked last time and is thankful for it now, quickly bolting the door shut behind her. Adrenaline pounds through her veins and fear has her senses on high alert. The taxi’s gone. How is she going to get home now?

Home. The thought has her breaking down, sliding to the floor with her back against the door, a sob forcing its way out of her chest as she presses her face into her hands. What will she tell Pearl and Walter? That she gave up? That Emma left her for her real mother?

She cries and cries, chest tight with pain, throat constricted, tears staining her cheeks until her eyes hurt and her jaw aches from her clenching her teeth. The heartbreak remains in her chest like jagged shards of glass even as her tears run dry, and she absently wonders how long she has before they come for her. She doesn’t have to wait long.

A fist pounds the door and jars her out of her daze. How she hadn’t heard the mob arrive is beyond her, but it doesn’t matter now. She can’t call a taxi. There’s no escape, nowhere for her to go. Regina stands up, wipes her face clean, and straightens out her pantsuit.

If they want their Queen, they’ll have their Queen. She will not die without her dignity intact.

She undoes the lock and throws open the door. The man standing there stumbles back in surprise. She recognizes him - Doctor Frankenstein. He looks like even more of an asshole now that he’s wearing a damn suit. Regina strides out towards him, shoving him further back with a hand against his chest, giving the crowd her renowned sneer.

“You wanted your Queen?” she asks them, expression hard and voice cold. Once upon a time she would have called forth her fireballs and given them all a painful death. Now, well… This is Emma’s home now. Emma has her parents here. She can’t burn down her world. She won’t.

 _At least one of us can have a happy ending,_ she thinks softly. Aloud she says, “Here I am.”

There is no fight left in her eyes. The doctor sees it and is the first to rush forward, grabbing her by her throat and slamming her up against the pillar. The crowd presses in around them, screaming words of anger and fury. Rightfully so, she supposes. She did wipe their memories and curse them all to a life in a strange new land, after all. Perhaps this is the death she deserves.

Regina coughs and gasps as the doctor’s fingers tighten around her throat, bruisingly hard. She’s vaguely aware of a familiar voice screaming out, but the only thing she can focus on is the blackness creeping into the edges of her vision. Death by strangulation. How poetic.

“Mom! Mom!!” _Emma?_

Someone grabs onto her arm and someone else collides into the doctor, tackling him aside. Regina sucks in air with a rattled gasp, looking down to find Emma nearly hanging from her arm.

“Mom!” she shouts, eyes large in panic. She tugs and Regina immediately pushes her towards the house, because even in this moment all she can think about is getting Emma away from the angry mob. It isn’t safe. They fall through the open doorway and Regina throws herself against the door, slamming it shut and locking it up with shaking fingers.

“Emma, you shouldn’t be here,” she rasps out, glancing through the small side window. Ironically, it looks like Snow White has saved her from the doctor, tackling him into the rosebushes. Of course, she may have only done it because she wants to be the one to personally kill the Evil Queen, but Regina isn’t going to be picky about it.

“They want to kill you,” Emma whispers, tears in her eyes. “Even my… even Snow White wants to kill you.”

Regina presses her back to the door, eyes closing with a shaky sigh. “I cursed all of them, Emma. Of course they want to kill me. I’m the Evil Queen.”

Emma sucks in a wobbly breath. “I don’t want you to die.”

The door rattles behind her as Snow White body slams it. She can hear the brunette through the thick wooden panel.

“Let my daughter go!” Snow shouts, fists beating at the door. “Give her back to me! Regina!”

Regina laughs bitterly. “You need to go, sweetheart. It’s not safe for you here. You’re not safe with me.”

“But I don’t want them to hurt you,” Emma whispers, eyes wet.

Regina can’t promise her that she’ll be fine. That’s an outright lie and Emma is too smart for that. She just smiles at her, sadly. “Go back to your mother, Emma. Go find your father. They’re your life now. They’ll take care of you.”

Emma’s looking at her with this conflicted stare and Regina wishes she could just hold her and tell her everything will be alright. There’s a struggle going on within her and she would give anything to be able to understand it.

“Regina!” Snow snarls from outside. “Give her back to me! She is _my_ daughter!”

Regina closes her eyes again. “You need to go, Emma.”

To her surprise, Emma grabs onto her hand. “You would give me up?” she asks.

“I would do anything to give you your happy ending,” Regina whispers back. “I love you.”

Emma closes the distance and hugs her, little arms squeezing her as tightly as she can. Regina just clings on, face buried in her blonde hair, her heart in her throat.

“Emma--”

“I want to go home,” Emma mumbles into her shirt. “I want to go home with you, Mom.”

“But your parents,” Regina insists feebly, pulling back enough to meet green eyes again.

“I told her that you were my mom and not to hurt you,” Emma says, dropping her gaze. “I said that I loved you and didn’t want anyone to hurt you. But she still wants to kill you.”

“She has good reason,” Regina admits.

“But you’re different now...You’re my mom, and you love me, and she _still_ wants to kill you.”

Regina’s gaze softens, a sad smile touching her lips. How she ever deserved Emma in her life, she’ll never know. The door rattles behind her again, reminding her that they don’t have much time left, and Emma tugs gently on her hand.

“Are you sure, Emma?”

“Let’s go home, Mom.”

 

She doesn’t know how to drive, but she’s watched Walter enough times that she manages to get the black Mercedes Benz fired up. Thank the heavens the car keys had been left hanging on a wall peg. Emma sits buckled into the passenger seat, giving her a reassuring smile. The garage door opens at the press of a button, and Regina doesn’t wait for the mob to rush over to stop her.

“Hold on, baby,” she says, fingers tightening around the wheel. Emma braces herself.

The Benz shoots out of the garage, skidding its way onto the street with a screech of the tires. The mob shouts with anger, though luckily no one is stupid enough to try jumping in front of the vehicle. Regina guns down the street, glancing into the rearview to see Snow White running after the car, screaming at them to stop. When she looks to her side, Emma is looking only at her.

“I’m sorry for coming here,” she says, relaxing when Regina slows to a safer speed now that they’re not within range of the mob. They drive through town center without trouble. It seems everyone else is more concerned about gathering their bearings than hunting down the Evil Queen.

“Don’t be. I shouldn’t have hidden the truth from you.” Regina shakes her head. “I shouldn’t have stolen you to begin with. You were supposed to have gone through the portal with Snow. She would have raised you, been the mother you always wanted…”

“I want you,” Emma says. Regina smiles a little but goes quiet, concentrating on driving. She doesn’t relax until the town line comes into view again, the little sign saying “Leaving Storybrooke” standing lonely on the side of the road.

“Regardless, it shouldn’t have been me,” she finally says, a soft admittance. When she looks over again, Emma’s staring at her with a smile that is full of love. Love for someone who truly wants what's best for her, who would have sacrificed her own happiness for Emma’s.

“But I’m glad it was,” Emma says, reaching over to settle her hand on top of Regina’s over the gear shift. Entwining their fingers together, Regina smiles at her daughter - _her daughter -_ as they drive over the town line and head home.


	4. Epilogue

If there’s one thing she loves about living so far out from the city, it’s the sky. There’s nothing to pollute the sky out here, which means her nights are blanketed by a billion stars spread out overhead. She idly wonders if the stars are the same as the ones from the Enchanted Forest, the same ones that she used to wish upon. Perhaps all the worlds share the same sky, because one of her wishes has definitely been granted.

“Mom?” Emma peeks out from the bedroom door. Ever since the renovations, Regina’s had a little patio outside her bedroom on the second floor, complete with a padded bench and a small table for her to set a cup of tea and a book on. Regina puts her tea down now, stretching out an arm to open up a space beneath her big blanket. Emma climbs onto the bench and burrows into Regina’s side.

“Can’t sleep, sweetheart?”

“Uh-uh.” A pause. She grins impishly. “Grams snuck me a cookie before bed.”

Regina laughs. “She snuck you a cookie, or you begged her for one?”

Emma snickers and rests her head against her mother’s shoulder, settling in comfortably. They sit like that in contented silence for a while, enjoying the warm summer night and the glitter of stars above them. Eventually Regina can feel Emma’s head nodding off against her.

“Let’s get you to bed, darling.” She rubs Emma’s back, the blonde yawning and rubbing at her eyes as she obediently stands and helps carry the blanket back inside. Regina shuts the patio door and turns, finding Emma climbing up into her bed already. The girl pauses, smiling shyly.

“Can I sleep with you tonight?”

“Of course you can.”

They climb under the covers together, settling into the comforting and familiar darkness of Regina’s bedroom. Emma snuggles in against her side and Regina wraps an arm around her, nestling her face against blonde hair that smells of Emma’s favourite apple scented shampoo.

“Goodnight, darling. I love you.”

Emma smiles sleepily against Regina’s collarbone, her voice a soft murmur. “Love you more, Mommy.”

_ Mommy.  _ Regina smiles, her heart bursting at hearing that again. She would have never expected - when she made that wish upon a star so long ago, desperately wishing for someone to save her, for someone to give her a happy ending - that she would end up here. It’s not the life she’d imagined, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

She kisses Emma’s hair, smiling as the girl’s fingers rest over Daniel’s ring on her chest. The ring doesn’t bring her sadness anymore; just good memories, and the comfort that she’s found love and happiness in her daughter. 

“I love you most.”

 

* * *

Thank you guys so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this fun little re-imagining, and if you have a moment, perhaps like/fave and leave me a review? :) The next chapter is a short bonus epilogue #2 for StableQueen fans. Otherwise, please check out my other SwanQueen works if you like my writing! You can also follow me on Tumblr at Niki-Frost to keep up to date with all my fanfics, SwanQueen artwork, gifsets, and other goodies! 

Stay regal, darlings! -Niki


	5. Bonus Epilogue

“Good! You’re doing so well, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, Mom.” 

Regina beams, unable to contain her pride as Emma trots just ahead of her on her mare. Emma has the biggest grin plastered to her face even as her brows scrunch with concentration. Her mother is an excellent rider and she’s been working hard to impress her ever since taking up an interest in riding as well. She’s only eleven, of course, but a Swan-Mills woman has high expectations. (Her Grams and Gramps had nearly had heart attacks of joy when they’d officially added Swan to their name. It had been Regina’s idea to simply change to Swan at first but Emma loved being a Mills and thought that adding their surnames together was the perfect solution.)

They’re halfway through the trails and simply enjoying the sunshine and the birdsongs when hoofbeats from behind them has Regina turning around in her saddle, squinting into the distance. Rocinante swivels his ears around but seems unconcerned, continuing along at a languid pace.

“Who’s that?” Emma asks, turning around to look as well.

“I’m not sure.” Regina watches, waiting for the rider to catch up. He's going at an easy gallop that has Regina wondering if they should move aside and give him room to pass them. Then again, there shouldn’t even be anyone else out here, so whoever it is, they must have come from the Swan ranch.

Sure enough, the rider and his mare slow down as they approach, his face shaded by a leather cattleman hat. From his lean build in a plaid dress shirt and dark jeans, he’s not William or Charles Swan, and those are the only two of Pearl and Walter’s sons that she’s met. That means he’s either the youngest son whom she’s never met - Danny - or one of the farmhands.

“Howdy,” he greets them cheerfully, trotting up beside Regina. The trail is just wide enough that they don’t have to worry about banging their knees together.

“Hello,” is Regina’s reserved greeting. Emma gives a more welcoming “Hiya!”

He grabs his hat off and holds it to his chest the way that all the smalltown boys do when introducing themselves, and Regina nearly falls off Rocinante in shock.

The man has a striking resemblance to Daniel, right down to the warm eyes with the crinkles at the corners and the lopsided way he grins. He even has a little cow-lick at the back of his dishevelled hair.

“Sorry to interrupt, but my Pa said I could find you two out here, and I’ve been dyin’ to meet ya. Heard a lot about you two from my family. I’m Danny Swan, pleasure to meet ya.”

His lips twist up in that playful smile and Emma grins right back, already charmed.

“I’m Emma,” she says. When her mother doesn’t immediately introduce herself as well, she clears her throat. “Mom?”

“Yes? Oh.” Regina feels her cheeks flushing. “I’m Regina. It’s nice to meet you, Danny. Your family is wonderful.”

“They’re somethin’,” he laughs. “We’re happy to have ya. My folks have been so much happier having you two here with ‘em, especially after my sibs and I all flew the nest, I can tell. Mind if I ride with you two?”

Regina immediately looks to Emma for what she wants. Emma smirks. “I’m gonna practice cantering. You trot with Danny, Mom!”

“Be careful!” Regina calls after her, flustered, but Emma’s already riding off with a gleeful laugh, leaving her mother alone with the handsome cowboy.

“I like her enthusiasm,” Danny notes with a chuckle. “You teach her to ride? She’s got good technique.”

“I-- yes. Thank you.”

Danny is easy to talk to and Regina finds herself relaxing in his presence after her initial shock at his resemblance to Daniel wore off. He’s been working diligently at a renowned training center for competition horses the past few years, just having finished a five year contract in Vienna. Unlike the rest of his siblings, he never married or had children, simply happy to concentrate on his work. With Pearl and Walter getting on in their years, however, he thought he’d finally fly home and consider taking over the stables, especially since he’s the only one of their children who still works with horses. He is entirely respectful of the fact that Regina’s worked the stables since arriving, of course, and hopes that she might be open to co-running it with him once Walter fully steps down.

She smiles and promises to consider it.

By the time they return to the stables, Emma’s let her mare loose in the paddocks and is sitting on the fence, munching on a cookie, her Grams and Gramps leaning against the fence beside her. Regina and Danny dismount, unsaddling their horses before joining the others.

“Daniel Colten Swan!” Pearl shouts, swatting her son hard enough that he bellows out a laugh and cringes away. “Finally home after bein’ on the other side of the earth for more than a decade and ya can’t even give your mother a kiss before ridin’ off!”

She swats him again and he can’t stop laughing, swooping down to hug her and pin down her arms at the same time so he can kiss her without getting walloped. Walter’s laughing right along with him and Emma’s grinning at the way her mother’s caught between shock and amusement.

“I like him,” she whispers conspiratorially. Regina just scoffs softly, her cheeks pink.

“Daniel?” she questions when he finally releases his mother and turns in her direction again. He has the good sense to duck his head.

“Aw, only my Ma calls me that. But I guess I don’t mind you usin’ it either,” he grins crookedly. Pearl rolls her eyes dramatically and pokes her son in the ribs.

“Go make yourself useful and help your mother in the kitchen,” she teases. “You too, ladies!”

Regina chuckles, turning to help Emma off the fence - but Daniel is already there, offering her daughter a helping hand with a gallant little bow.

“After you, lil’ lady.” He winks. Emma beams, flashing her mother an encouraging wiggle of the eyebrow before running on ahead to the main house. Regina walks with Daniel as Pearl and Walter lag behind (and she’s pretty sure they’re doing it on purpose, the buggers.)

“I hope you didn’t take offence to my earlier suggestion,” he says, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. “You’ve done a helluva job here, and if you’d rather run the stables yourself, I understand. I can always deal with the ranch side of things.”

“Not at all.” Regina smiles wryly and shakes her head at his familiar body language. She’d still had doubts earlier, but now it’s hard to deny. Perhaps her Daniel had been given a second chance after all. “This is your family’s lands. I’d be honoured to co-run the stables with you.”

“Well then, miss Regina Swan-Mills,” he says playfully, jutting out his hand. “Let’s shake on it.”

Regina puts her hand in his and chuckles. “You have yourself a deal, Daniel Swan.”

 

_The End._


End file.
